I am successfully navigating grad school and work and driving X-man to all his therapies and going to Bunco once a month. I am working my butt off to be a successful social worker. I am going above what is asked of me in my classes. I am trying to show my kiddos it can be done and it can be done well. I want them to know I am going to have more opportunities when this is all over and we just need to hang on for this ride. I know I will be able to provide opportunities for my kids with a master's level social work job. I might even be able to provide a few dollars in the savings account instead of living paycheck to paycheck. I might be able to have two kids in taekwondo instead of just one because it is so expensive. I am unable to make my house sparkle. I am unable to attend everything my kids are involved in. I attended one cross-country meet for The Daughter because the rest of the meets were during my classes. I think I am doing a great thing by my family and they appreciate the sacrifices I have had to make to have a better future. Okay, maybe appreciate is more than I expect, let's go with understand.
The Daughter has been mean and condescending towards me for a couple of months. It started when I started school, but I am unaware of why there has been a change. Yes, she is 16 years old and is supposed to be bratty, but this is different. I have tried changing my tone. I have tried lessening her load of responsibilities at home because she has been stressed. I try asking her to do things with me. I sat down with her this morning. I asked her if we could talk about this issue and she said no. I asked her if this is something she is willing to work on, she said she doesn't think so. I asked her is she thought our relationship could be fixed, she said no. No. She said no. I had to leave the room before I started to cry.
I did what I always do when I am emotionally weathered, I started blasting music, loud, angry music. (In my headphones, of course, because the kiddos don't need to hear my angry music. Lots of swear words in angry music.) And I started writing. If someone would pay me to pick the perfect angry music and read my emotional writings, I could be a wealthy woman.
I am now trying to figure out where I failed as a parent. I am not a touchy-feely-huggy person. I am not afraid of confrontation. I parent strangely because I had little to no parental examples. The kids are alive and I can rock finding resources for assisting the kids, but I can't just be a parent. I am unsure how this happened. I am not sure if I am fixable because I am not sure what is broken.
So, now I have a daughter who made it clear this morning that we will not have a relationship. I am hurt, sad, angry, confused... If I had known I was just going to be an egg donor, I would have done this parenting thing less often. I would have chosen not to have any children if I had know this is what was going to happen. (That is the angry side showing) Why wouldn't she even want to try? (hurt is talking now) I am a failure. (sadness has arrived) I don't even know what is going on. (confused)
I guess this is another chapter in my life with a depressingly, degrading title, Where did I fail?
